Fashoda
by SkyborneVeggie
Summary: They met in the summer of 57 BC, and his innocence was like a ray of light in the midst of war and struggle. But now it's 1897, and France wonders if he had known what they'd become, would he still have stretched out his hand? [Imperialist England & France. Pairings if you like]


_1897, during the Scramble for Africa_

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><p><em>Five.<em>

"France." England's eyes bore into him, face mirroring his own conceited contempt. France smirks back.

"_Angleterre. _Still speaking that horrendous language, I see."

The jeer doesn't stick quite where he wants it to, though, because England only responds by hiding a thin, snide smile behind a slender hand. _Slender hands holding teacups, slender hands at his lapels, slender hands in his hair, in his-_

Four.

England breathes out a single, harsh laugh and tosses his wrist aside with a flourish.

"You have such pride in your language," he sneers, "and yet, I seem to remember a time when using anything even close to Latin used to set you off."

_Three_

"I..." France falters, because all he can think of is how those hands could never have been meant for war. But he quickly remembers himself. "_I_ modernize," he slurs, in his best condescending tone. "_I_ move on from the past."

"Yeah, I noticed that," England spits out. His face contorts with disdain. "Isn't that what this equality rubbish is you've been feeding them?" He yanks on Egypt's chain, causing him to stumble a bit. _We're so ugly,_ France realizes. _God, we're so ugly._

"I've given them nothing but the truth, _cheri_. If they can learn to adopt our ways and become like us, then there is no reason for them not to be as respectable as the average Europea-."

_Two._

"Liar!" England storms angrily." They're not European, and they never will be. It's only cruel of you to give them false hope.

"Crueler than giving them no hope at all?" France demands.

"I'm honest with them." England straightens, composing himself with a sordid delicacy. "And they are beneath me. It's my right, I'm not doing anything wrong."

France opens his mouth, an angry retort threatening to spill from his lips.

_One_.

A command given, a shout. Both parties snap to attention and salute, but their steely gaze continues to convey all the hate they can't express. They turn on their heels at the exact same moment and march in the opposite direction, one trailing a desolate Egypt behind him.

_"Who are you?"_

_France's head snapped up in surprise. He glanced around to see a tiny child half hiding behind the bushes. "Who are you?" it repeated. France laughed warmly._

_"I'm called Gaul," he smiled, extending his hand. "Come here, what's your name?" The infant child drew closer, but did not take his hand._

_"I'm Britannia," he replied sullenly. He looked up shyly and opened his mouth several times before voicing his question. "are you... Gallia?" France frowned and withdrew his hand._

_"Gallia is a Roman name. I am not Roman."_

_"Oh." The infant Britannia took back his sullen expression. "Sorry."_

_"No, it's alright," France shook his head, smiling once again. He couldn't blame a child for things he did not yet understand. He reached out and pulled the infant in his lap. Britannia responded with loud protests, struggling wildly against France's arms._

_"So what did you come here for?" France questioned, ignoring the commotion._

_"Let me go and I'll tell you!" croaked Britannia. France pouted, but did as he was told. Britannia brushed himself off as well as he could, but the blush on his face was still evident. "I've come here to assist you," he announced, sticking his stubby nose in the air, "in the war against the Romans."_

_"You've come to help me?" France's face brightened. He jumped to his feet, grabbing Britannia around the waist as he spun in a circle. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Britannia said nothing, but did not resist either._

_"Are we friends now?" he muttered as France set him back on the ground. France cocked his head in surprise & kneeled down in front of the small child._

_"Do you want to be?" He stared into the younger boy's eyes. He extended his palm again, and this time the child took it._

_The hand that met his was so very unlike the rest of this boy's appearance. While the rest of him was scruffy and unkempt, there was something distinctly feminine about the way his fingers held a delicate curve, tapering into an elegant point near the ends. France, romantic as he was at heart, could not help but believe that they were the hands of one meant for greatly beautiful things. And as they walked into the setting sun, France vowed to keep the innocent child to which those hands belonged safe from the world and all its evils. __He did not imagine then that they'd spend their lives trying to keep the world safe from eachother instead._

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><p><em>AN:_

_Inspired by the song "Bad Blood" by Bastille._

_Some History:_

_Apparently there was an incident around the time of the Fashoda Crisis in which the French & English marched up to the border between their two territories, stared at eachother, & then both turned around at the same time & just marched away, because they were stalemated & it was the only way they could both save their pride. I'm not actually sure if this is true, it's just what someone told me._

_Imperialist France believed that if the people they conquered adopted French culture/education/lifestyle, then they could attain equal value as French-born people & offered them citizenship. Only rich Africans were able to afford to make this change though, so it didn't do the majority of people any good. Imperialist England thought it was better than its conquered peoples & there was literally nothing they could do about it._

_French is a language evolved from Latin. Latin was the language of the Romans. The Romans conquered Gaul, which is considered ancient France. __Britannia sent military aid to Gaul during the Gallic Wars against Rome._

_There was no conflict between England and France until the 11th century, which is incidentally when the "Medieval England's Clothes & Hair" strip takes place._

_~Jasmina Lejandra_


End file.
